Baby it's cold outside
by MLaw
Summary: Napoleon heads off on a much needed break. (pre-saga)


Napoleon was dead tired, both mentally and physically. He'd been on one assignment after another, working with other agents as well as his Soviet partner. The last mission resulted in a near fistfight between he and Illya, and that's when the American agent knew he needed a break.

Kuryakin had been giving him the cold shoulder all day, though he knew the two of them needed to talk and make amends. They were not only partners but the best of friends, but even friends had disagreements.

Given he and Illya were trained killers, there was an underlying edge to their personalities with a propensity towards violence more than the average person. Both men managed to control that tendency quite well most of the time, but once in a rare while tempers flared and fisticuffs ensued.

They always made peace afterwards but in this particular instance Illya was being more stubborn than usual. That was when Napoleon decided to just make himself scarce and let his partner cool his heels.

It was his usual habit to simply disappear into the arms of a beautiful woman for the night, or sometimes for days but not this time. He needed solitude, that Solo was sure of.

Getting away from it all, the city, headquarters, Illya and even women was the best thing for him to relax and clear his head. There was only one place he could do that, and that was the Solo family cabin in the Catskills.

The first snow of the season had fallen the night before he left, making Napoleon's trip take a little longer than he'd planned. The roads through the small town of East Durham, the last of civilization if you could call it that was his last stop before reaching the cabin. There he popped into the general store and picked up a few supplies to add to what he'd already brought with him. A quick cup of Joe and he was on his way

The snowplows were farther down the road now, clearing Route 145 and had just gotten past a recently built motel. The Rose Motel looked quite welcoming and could only help the economy here. It was another place at which people could spend their vacations.

As Napoleon recalled his father telling him the route on which the drove was once the path of a Revolutionary War trail, winding through the historic Catskill mountains. Still the area was a sleepy sort of place.

Heading west along along the road were little towns about every twenty miles or so, surviving from the days of the horse and wagon. They served an important purpose; a good, well-rested horse could cover about 20 miles in a day, and horse and driver or rider would need a place to find shade, to eat, to sleep, and store their goods.

The only thing Napoleon could do was to continue follow behind the snowplow; keeping his fingers crossed he could get up to the cabin without too much difficulty. Still the snow covered view was spectacular, and he found himself feeling more serene as he drove on.

He finally arrived at the turn off and as luck would have it the gravel road leading to the cabin was clear; the wind had blown it clear, with the snow drifting off to the side instead.

After parking his car, he pulled out a small valise and the paper sack with groceries he'd brought for the weekend; basics like milk, bacon and eggs,, butter, a loaf of raisin rye bread, cheese and of course coffee. For lunch there were plenty of cold cuts and Campbell's chicken noodle soup. For dinner he'd prepare his favorite, London broil, baked potatoes, and asparagus. He brought enough extras to make a hearty stew for the next night. One last thing among his cache of supplies was a bottle of single malt scotch...with that, he was all set.

There was no television, though the family kept a radio in the living room along with a small record player. He'd have nothing but peace and tranquility; just being able to listen to the kind of music he preferred, if he felt like it.

Solo smiled at the thought of solitude, sitting in front of a crackling fireplace, eating and drinking in silence. The flames could be mesmerizing and perhaps that's what he needed, just to let his mind go blank. It was a rare occasion he permitted himself to do such a thing.

Napoleon Solo was a social animal and usually craved company, always of the feminine kind, but not this time.

Once he settled in, he'd call Illya via communicator and have that talk with him to make amends. Napoleon figured they'd go out to dinner when he got back to the city. Food was guaranteed to sooth his testy Russian compatriot, that along with an apology. Their disagreement had been his fault, Solo knew that now.

As he approached the steps leading up to the house he spotted a pair of snowshoes staked in the snow...that wasn't right. He put down the bags and reached inside his jacket, drawing his Special.

As he carefully climbed the stairs he saw white Christmas lights strung on one of the evergreens near the door?

"Oh hell…" he muttered, putting his gun back in its holster. His parents must be here.

Just to be on the safe side, he kept his hand on his weapon as he tried the door knob. Finding it unlocked, Napoleon stepped inside with caution.

There he spotted a white fur coat draped over the cushioned adirondack chair just by the door; his mother didn't have any furs; she disliked them.

He drew his weapon again, walking through the house, searching each room on the first floor, but found nothing. Napoleon climbed the stairs, avoiding the one step he knew creaked, and coming to the first bedroom on his left; he found the door ajar.

He gave it a gentle nudge and peeking inside he spotted someone lying under the bedcovers.

"Hello darling," he heard an all too familiar but muffled voice from beneath the coverlet. Napoleon huffed as he pulled it back.

"Angelique."

"So are you surprised dearest?"

"Tsk. Yes you've surprised me all right. Just how the hell did you find...how do you know about this place?"

"Spy, remember darling?" She sat up, letting the sheet drop to reveal her nakedness. "Why don't you join me? I've been cold waiting here for you."

Napoleon canted his head to one side as he contemplated her invitation.

"I'll have to decline as well as ask you to leave Angelique."

"What? You're sending me away? The nerve of you!" She pulled the blanket up around her as she rose.

"The nerve of you to invade my family's property. I thought we had an agreement that personal space was off limits?"

"I suppose you're right. Yes we did agree to that didn't we?" She pouted her lips, letting the blanket fall to the floor. "So you're going to send me out there? As the song goes...baby it's cold outside."

"I'm sure you have adequate clothing, and I did see your fur coat downstairs. I promise you we'll get together, but another time and in a neutral location like...the Plaza. Champagne and oysters among other things will abound, I guarantee," He winked at her.

She gathered the blanket around herself again. "You promise?"

"Scouts honor. Now get dressed. I'm going to make some coffee before you go on your merry way."

"You're serious aren't you darling?"

"Completely." Napoleon closed the door after himself and headed outside to retrieve his suitcase and groceries.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as Angelique came downstairs. She sat in one of the chairs at the breakfast nook and Solo passed a mug to her along with the bottle of scotch.

They each put a dash of the single malt into their coffee.

"Here's to future couplings," she said, raising her drink.

"Yes, _future_ ," he replied with a twinkle in his hazel eyes.

Though they were lovers, they were still technically enemies. Yet they managed to keep their amorous rendezvous a cease fire in the war between THRUSH and UNCLE.

Both their organizations were aware of their shenanigans and somehow seemed to tolerate it without asking either of them to kill each other. Sometimes Napoleon and Angelique would bug each other in hopes of getting some information, but that was about it.

Now and then they'd feed each other bad intelligence, just to keep up appearances mind you. UNCLE and the Council were only so tolerant and needed a bone thrown their way now and then.

Angelique had saved Solo's skin a number of times, as well as his partner whom she claimed she detested. She only helped Illya simply because letting something happen to the Russian would ruin a good thing she had going with the American.

She was quite fond of Napoleon, and though she'd never admit it to him; he was the best lover she'd ever had…

"Napoleon what's wrong with you? You've never refused my company, though I'll admit I did overstep my bounds by coming here...by the way you like this primitive sort of place?"

"It's not you Angelique; I just need some time to myself that's all. It's been a rough month. And yes I like this place; I grew up coming here and to me it represents a safe haven away from the rest of the world."

"I can understand that." She finished her coffee and rose to get her coat.

Napoleon stepped forward, helping her with her wrap, but suddenly pulled her into a long but gentle kiss.

"That's one for the road," he whispered to her.

"I'll hold you to that raincheck darling."

He walked her outside and down the steps. "Wait, how did you get here? I didn't see a car...the snowshoes?"

"My car is parked just off the main road, and I did use the snowshoes darling; I'm not helpless."

Napoleon smiled at that vision. Angelique was all woman but was as tough as nails if she had to be.

He drove her to her car, surprised she'd made it up here in her Corvette she'd hidden in the pines to the side of the road.

Solo held her by the hand as she lowered herself into the driver's seat, and waited until she started the engine and drove off with a wave.

The road was clear now and he was sure she'd manage.

Shaking his head with a smile, he got back into his car, but before he started it, he pulled his communicator.

"Open Channel D- Kuryakin…"


End file.
